Borderlines: incurable demons or trauma victims?

Posted on February 21, 2016 by luckyotter

The symptoms of Complex PTSD are almost identical to those of BPD.

Something has come to my attention during the time I’ve been blogging, which I think is important enough to merit another post about it.

Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD, DSM code 301.83) is classified by the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders as a Cluster B (emotional/dramatic/erratic) personality disorder having many similarities to character disorders like Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD) and Antisocial Personality Disorder (ASPD). Both NPD and ASPD are characterized by a lack of empathy, entitled behavior, and disregard for the rights or feelings of others. It’s also true that some Borderlines act out in ways harmful to themselves and others. Hence, “Cluster B” has become a pejorative category and some ACONs (adult children of narcissists) and others have demonized people with BPD as being amoral, immoral, and almost inhuman, nearly or as bad as as people with NPD or ASPD. Some even go so far as to lump all borderlines in with the “narcs” and barely make a distinction between them. In their minds, if you’re a Borderline, you’re no better than a “narc” and that’s all there is to it. You’re a bad person and to be avoided.

To make matters even worse, many mental health professionals refuse to treat people with BPD, believing them to be troublemakers, incurable, or both. I remember one therapist I saw years ago for an intake session and seemed to connect well with, called me a few days later after he received my psychiatric records, and told me he couldn’t take me on as a patient. “I don’t work with borderlines,” he said.

It’s true that there are some similarities between the Cluster B disorders, and both BPD and NPD/ASPD have roots in childhood abuse or neglect. But the similarities don’t run very deep. What I mean by that is while both a borderline and a narcissist cn be manipulative or abusive to others, the reasons are very different. There’s also the matter of intention. Borderlines, if they act out against others, aren’t usually aware they’re being abusive and/or manipulative. If their bad behavior is brought to their attention, they normally become very upset and feel terrible about it (unless they have a comorbid NPD or ASPD diagnosis). They act out because of overpowering emotions that they haven’t learned how to control. In contrast, a narcissist or person with ASPD acts out because they can. If their behavior is brought to their attention, they’re likely to become angry and rage against the accusation, make excuses, blame-shift it onto someone else, or deny it. Unlike most borderlines, they don’t feel remorse, guilt or shame for hurting others.

In addition, many borderlines are much more harmful to themselves than to other people. If they do act out against others, most are as frightened by their own outbursts as others are and sometimes more so. In a nutshell, people with BPD know they have a problem and wish they could be different. Untreated BPD makes a Borderline’s life miserable, while people with NPD or ASPD are usually not bothered by their disorder. That’s why, even though Borderlines can act “crazier” than narcissists, they can get better and are much more responsive to therapy or behavioral treatments such as DBT or CBT.

But we’re still caught in a gray zone, neither here or there. The stigma against borderlines (in my observation) has grown worse, and most narcissistic abuse sites pretty much regard people with BPD as the “female or over-emotional version of NPD.” (actually, Covert/Fragile NPD or Histrionic Personality Disorder would come closer). If we’re narcissistic abuse victims suffering from complex PTSD, it takes a great deal of courage to admit you also have a BPD diagnosis. It took me a few months to come out about it on this blog. Fortunately, I haven’t received too much (or really, any) flack about it.

Click to enlarge graph.

The good news is, a number of BPD bloggers are helping to reduce the negative stigma that we’re “bad seeds” with an untreatable disorder just because we’re OMG “Cluster B.” Think about this: have you ever noticed that there aren’t too many people with NPD (or ASPD) blogging about their challenges and insecurities, or fighting to reduce the stigma against their disorder? If they blog about their narcissism or psychopathy, it’s usually to brag about how NPD/psychopathy makes them superior or allows them to have control over others and be successful in the world. That’s because they don’t think they have a problem (They just cause others to have problems). Most Borderlines know they have a problem and struggle with it constantly, since it makes them feel so crazy and lowers their quality of life. I can only think of ONE blogger with NPD who was unhappy with his disorder and successfully treated for it (or so he says). That man probably had low-spectrum and probably covert NPD; a person with malignant or high spectrum grandiose-type NPD will never have enough insight or willingness to admit that THEY are the ones with a problem. In contrast, I can think of about 20 bloggers with BPD who are in treatment or therapy or have even been healed! I’m sure there’s many more that I don’t even know about.

BPD also seems to co-occur a lot with complex PTSD or PTSD. Most BPD bloggers I can think of also have complex PTSD or are in treatment for it. The symptoms of BPD and Complex PTSD are almost the same. The DSM does not recognize Complex PTSD as a diagnosis; it only recognizes PTSD, which is not caused by chronic trauma over a long period of time (such as having been abused as a child), but by one traumatic incident (such as fighting in a war or being raped). Therapeutic treatments for complex PTSD and BPD are also almost the same (for that matter, NPD and other personality disorders are treated almost the same way). Both BPD and Complex PTSD have a higher cure rate than NPD. Since Complex PTSD isn’t recognized as a valid diagnosis, I think a lot of people (especially women) who might have been diagnosed with complex PTSD if it was recognized get slapped with the “Borderline” label instead. Although I accept my BPD diagnosis (and have even become a little attached to it), I wonder if I might never have been diagnosed with it at all had Complex PTSD been recognized by the psychiatric profession. I think in some cases, BPD may not really be accurate, or could even be the same thing as C-PTSD due to their many similarities. At least one blogger (BPD Transformation, who used to comment here but stopped for some reason), doesn’t even think BPD is a valid diagnosis and shouldn’t exist at all.

Further reading:

Are BPD and Complex PTSD the Same Disorder?

Is BPD a Real Disorder or Should it Be Eliminated as a Diagnosis?

Book review: Confessions of a Sociopath (M. E. Thomas)

Posted on February 20, 2016 by luckyotter

A couple of weeks ago I went to a yard sale and a book caught my eye, because of its subject matter–a copy of M. E. Thomas’ autobiography, Confessions of a Sociopath: a Life Spent Hiding in Plain Sight.

Ever-fascinated with all things Cluster B, including first-person accounts by narcissists, psychopaths and other antisocial types, I got busy reading that same evening. It took me two weeks to finish the book, when normally I’d devour a book of this length and subject matter in just a few days.

I’m sorry to say, this book was a disappointment. It was a long, painful, boring read. First of all, Ms. Thomas isn’t a very good writer. Full of run-on sentences and endless, dull descriptions of how great she thinks she is because she lacks empathy and a conscience (she seems to think of these as traits only weak or stupid people have, reminding me of Ayn Rand without an iota of the latter’s intelligence), Thomas comes off more as an obnoxious, self-centered, common narcissist than a true sociopath.

Thomas (who owns the website Sociopath World) is not a criminal. She may well be sociopathic in that she seems to take pleasure in cheating, manipulating, hurting, and discarding others, once gleefully watched a possum drown, and admits she enjoys ruining the reputations of people she has worked with. She clearly has no empathy and seems to have no emotions. She crows on endlessly about how her lack of a conscience or any empathy has freed her from having to worry about what others think and therefore indicates what she thinks of as her superior intellect. But like the narcissist she really is, she overvalues her achievements and intelligence. She works as an attorney but doesn’t seem to be able to stay employed for long, and really doesn’t have any other impressive achievements under her belt. Her “theories” about sociopathy are nothing more than rehashes of what other people have already described in psychology texts, and less readable than theirs. Overall, Thomas comes off as self-congratulating, obnoxious, unlikeable, and very shallow. She also comes off as rather dumb.

M. E. Thomas is clearly a malignant narcissist, but by calling herself a “sociopath” you feel like you’ve been the victim of a bait-and-switch (which is in itself sociopathic, I suppose). The cover of the book is a picture of a sinister female mask on a white background, and you open the book expecting something more than you actually get, at least some sort of depth or insight into her own behavior. But Thomas has no real insight and the book reads more like a resume of her fake “achievements” than a dark psychological memoir. She talks about her family, who she describes as neglectful, but she doesn’t seem to think they were particularly abusive. She takes arrogant pride in her “sociopathy,” repeating the word again and again throughout the text, as if to drive home the fact that she really is one, when it seems that she “protesteth too much” and underneath all that bluster, suspects she may not be. That kind of insecurity over the possibility of not really being what one says they are is a lot more typical of NPD than psychopathy or sociopathy, who don’t care what others think of them. Thomas also talks about wanting to have a family and her religion (Mormonism) a lot. Maybe her religion keeps her from acting out against others in more heinous ways and gives her a sort of “cold” conscience that keeps her out of prison, but I sure hope God doesn’t let her have children. She doesn’t seem capable of maintaining a relationship, so that doesn’t exactly work in her favor.

Although narcissists are thought of as having no emotions, it isn’t really true that they don’t, and there are narcissists and sociopaths who have been able to write about themselves in an emotionally engaging, albeit dark and depressing, way. There is rage and hurt and despair seething behind the surface of their words. But Thomas writes in a cold, emotionless way, probably because she’s such a bad writer. As a result, you feel about as excited reading her “memoir” as you’d feel reading the most boring high school textbook–and learn a whole lot less.

The only reason I didn’t feel completely ripped off was because the yard sale copy of this book set me back only $1; if I’d purchased it at full price, I’d be pretty annoyed right now. It was all I could do to even finish this book. It was that boring. Don’t waste your time. If you want to read a good book about sociopathy, read Marsha Stout’s The Sociopath Next Door instead. If you really need to read something that comes “out of the horse’s mouth,” you’d do better with Sam Vaknin.

The Town From Hell

Posted on February 18, 2016 by luckyotter

In an increasingly narcissistic, selfish society, this sort of callous behavior is becoming the rule rather than the exception. This is horrible.

Ripped to shreds by an alcoholic malignant narcissist.

Posted on February 16, 2016 by luckyotter

I think I know one of the reasons why I’ve been hating my job more than usual lately. Two people–a customer and a coworker, both malignant narcissists, have targeted me, deciding I’d make a particularly tasty meal.

Malignant narcissists have a certain look about them. They seem to all have beady, penetrating eyes. They seem to be able to see right inside your soul, but there is no warmth there. If their eyes are dark, they look black and bead-like. You can’t see their irises. If their eyes are blue, they are cold and steely, sometimes with constricted pupils. I don’t know if others are able to see this, or if it’s just my imagination. I don’t think it is though. The problem is, I’m usually not paying attention to their eyes until after they’ve already decided to turn me into their prey.

They always seem to go after me. I’m an HSP and they seem to have an uncanny way of zeroing in on me and choosing me as their target. I feel so special! 🙄

I have a lovely job cleaning houses. I’m being sarcastic of course. Sometimes it’s okay, though. It’s a good job for a writer because you see just about everything and meet the strangest people you could ever hope to meet. I’ve done whole posts telling anecdotes about the people I meet on this job and the crazy things I see.

About half the time I work by myself. I prefer it that way. As an avoidant introvert, it’s exhausting and stressful to have to adapt my personality to someone new every day, but lately I’ve been being partnered with a random array of newer people, I suppose to “train” them. They never tell you that’s what you’re doing though. We don’t even get yearly evaluations. You get no feedback at all by management. The only “feedback” you get is through the customers, who sometimes call the office to complain or give compliments. But of course customer’s opinions are going to be biased more often than not so it’s not a fair way to evaluate employees.

Last week I was sent with a new girl to go do a “first time in” at the house of a former employee, who I will call Doris. I knew this woman; I never liked her much but I couldn’t quite put my finger on why. I didn’t like the way she looked at me with those beady black laser-like eyes, and I found her manner vaguely condescending. I remember how much Doris had hated her job. She complained constantly about the customers, and she was one of the laziest people I ever met. She skipped doing things because she wanted to go home. She was always complaining about how sick she was (probably hungover). She thought the customers weren’t paying enough (to be fair, some of them aren’t). She also had a serious drinking problem. Sometimes you could smell the alcohol on her breath in the morning.

I was surprised when I got my sheet with Doris’ name and address on it, listing the rooms she wanted cleaned. I thought to myself, she’s either going to take sympathy on us because she used to do this and hated it so much, or she’s going to be hell on wheels. Guess which one she was.

Doris’ house was a disaster. It hadn’t been cleaned in at least six months. Dog hair and dust were everywhere. Empty wine glasses sat on tables. Doris saw me and my partner and the first thing she did was hug me. It was like being hugged by a snake. Then she offered water. But the niceties didn’t last. We looked around her house and realized there was no way we could finish it all in the three hours she was paying for. I told Doris I thought it might take closer to 4 or 5 hours and asked her if that was alright. She would have to pay more though. I told her the office could work things out with her about the price.

She whirled around and stared daggers at me. I felt like a cornered animal.

evil_queen

“I asked for four ladies, not two.” I looked at my partner, who was giving me that “uh oh” look. “Oh, but don’t worry,” Doris purred sweetly, dripping poison honey. “I know that’s not your fault. I’m sure you two can get this done in three hours.” Uh, right.

I called the office and was told they didn’t have enough people to send two more, so let the woman know this and apologized for the mix-up. The office is disorganized and has always been. “You remember how they are,” I said.

Apparently she didn’t. She was the customer now. It was as if she never worked there and her memory went AWOL. She showed no empathy for our plight at all.

I got busy dusting and vacuuming. My partner started on the bathrooms. For the first twenty minutes or so, Doris stayed out of our way. But soon she was back, breathing down our necks, especially mine. She glanced briefly at the bathroom my partner had cleaned and crowed on and on about how perfect it looked. Then she started dusting the bedroom, which I had just finished.

She proceeded to tell me all the spots I missed. Then she started telling me I was using the wrong equipment and should try doing it a different way. I felt myself bristle. I’ve been on this job for two years and I know how to do my job. I resented this nasty, drunk woman doing my job for me and saying I was doing it wrong.

For the next four and a half hours (which is how long it took to clean her filthy house), I had to put up with Doris breathing her alcohol-and-cigarette infused breath down my neck as she continued to get drunker and meaner. She made me do everything over at least twice. She obviously had it in for me, not my partner, who she left alone. For some reason, I had become her prey. I was to be her Cinderella for the day.

You are not allowed to be rude to a customer, even one who used to be an employee, so I bit my tongue the whole time. I put on my best fake-polite self and “yes-ma’am”ed this narcissistic bitch and smiled until I thought my face would crack. I inquired about Doris’ family, her dogs, her new job. I tried my best to be accomodating and friendly, but she was having none of it.

She had told us not to clean the kitchen, only to vacuum and mop it, because there wouldn’t be enough time. So AFTER I finished vacuuming her kitchen, this awful woman changed her mind and started scraping black crud off her stove and sweeping it onto the clean floor. Of course I had to go behind her and vacuum the kitchen again.

Our time was already up. But Doris chose that moment to stand in front of the foyer chandelier that had about 40 removable glass panels, actually tapping her foot and making tsk-ing noises. Cleaning that would take about an hour, and we had already agreed all I would do was dust it with the high duster, not actually remove the panels and wash them individually. But high-dusting them hadn’t removed the yellowish nicotine film from the panels (Doris is a chain smoker). She asked me why I had “skipped” dusting it. I explained that I had done what she asked, but that the panels would have to be washed but it would have to be on another day.

Doris’ mouth formed a thin white line and she hissed, “get the stepladder.” I did. She stood there watching me like a disapproving schoolteacher as I removed each panel one at a time and handed them to her while she rubbed them with a dirty rag and handed them back to me to re-hang. We were way past our time limit. Cleaning those panels took about another half hour and they looked no cleaner than they did when she was standing there tapping her foot and tsk-ing. I don’t know how I managed to hold onto my rage without exploding or walking out because by now I wanted to take a baseball bat to her damn chandelier and maybe Doris’ head too.

My partner had missed something in the half bathroom by the kitchen, and Doris KNEW my partner had cleaned that bathroom but she still started blaming me. “Lauren, you missed this spot on the side of the sink!” I couldn’t say, “it was my partner” without sounding petty and childish, so I just went and re-cleaned what she asked. I was shaking with rage by now.

A few minutes before we were about to leave, Doris told my partner how wonderful her cleaning was and that she hoped she’d come back. She said no such thing to me. Right in front of me, she handed my partner a $20 tip. I got nothing, of course.

As we were leaving, Doris stood in the doorway weaving, holding a wineglass with one hand and the other one clutching the side of the door for support.

drunk_woman

“Oh, I just want to say I’m really not very picky,” she slurred. “It’s my husband. He was in the military and you know how they can be. He will be inspecting everything.” Sure, right. If her husband was so picky, why did he let her house get in that condition in the first place? The bitch was lying and projecting onto her husband.

The next day, Doris called the office to complain about how I “missed everything” but fortunately they didn’t take her complaint seriously. They know I do my job well and that I don’t normally get complaints. It still bothered me though.

I found out today that my partner went back to Doris’ house again yesterday (who, by the way, hated Doris as much as I did) with the person I worked with today. Doris was drunk again, and spent the first ten minutes complaining loudly about what a horrible job I had done and that everything I’d cleaned would have to be done over. The woman who told me this said that it looked to her like the other girl had skipped a lot of things, and what I’d done looked fine. She said, “I think Doris just had it in for you.” They always have it in for me.

I was going to talk about the narcissistic coworker too (a covert narcissist), but I’m saving that for another post due to how long this one became, and also because in writing this I’ve re-triggered my anger and need to think about something else.

Adult poverty and scapegoat-hood: a connection?

Posted on February 14, 2016 by luckyotter

I’m copying and pasting this from the comment section under another post, because I think it’s an important issue that needs a lot more awareness and research than it currently has.

I always felt like an outsider in the world because I’m one of those rare people who came from an upper middle class family but fell into a lower class financial lifestyle. I thought I must be horribly defective for that to have happened. From everything I’d ever read until recently, it was believed the only people who would fall so far down the social ladder into poverty (who weren’t born into it) were those who were mentally challenged, drug-addicted, or insane (and even then, their wealthy families would continue to help them financially, if not support them). As a person with a high IQ, I found the theory that “people who become poor are dumb and lazy” incredibly insulting. I’ve worked hard my entire adult life and I’m far from stupid. I don’t do drugs, I don’t drink, and I don’t have the type of mental illness that keeps a person from being able to take care of themselves. I knew my poverty had everything to do with my dismally low self esteem and wondered why this wasn’t ever considered a cause of poverty in adulthood.

It wasn’t until I found the ACON community that I realized I wasn’t alone: this seems to be a phenomenon almost exclusively limited to adults who became the designated scapegoats of narcissistic families. It’s as if we were not only isolated from the rest of the family by our narcissists; we were also kept from being able to take our rightful places in the functioning world. Whether we’re male or female, we were castrated and crippled, then we were blamed for it. We were told we were “losers” or “stupid” or “lazy.” But we never had a chance. To make matters even worse, once poverty befalls us, we are further isolated and rejected because we “embarrass” the family.

So many of us became poor but didn’t grow up that way. Obviously something’s significant is going on here. I think studies need to be done on family scapegoats/black sheep and poverty and find what the correlations and causes are. I would suspect the lack of normal familial support systems, isolation from others, and emotional coping tools due to horrible self esteem are the culprits. Awareness needs to be increased.

Right now, a number of ACON bloggers are writing about their own experiences with it, so it’s starting there, at the grass roots level. Hopefully, in time this very real social issue becomes more noticed and addressed in the general realm. I hope in the future there’s more empathy and tolerance toward the poor in general, who don’t all fit in the same box. We aren’t all lazy slackers and we weren’t all born poor. In fact, many of us are intelligent and college educated. We just don’t know how to navigate the practical side of life as well as others, and we lack the social support networks others have, because of what was done to our self esteem by our narcissistic families.

Paper tigers: why I choose understanding over rage.

Posted on February 13, 2016 by luckyotter

I know I don’t need to (or should) forgive what the narcissists in my life have done to me. I will never again enable them or give them the benefit of the doubt. I certainly won’t attempt to fix one (an action about as futile as trying to empty the ocean using a teaspoon). I can’t fix a narcissist and neither can you. The only viable way to deal with a narcissist is not at all. Go No Contact. Release them from your life.

Going No Contact isn’t an act of hatred or revenge, and it doesn’t break any commandments either (if they are your mother or father) because they haven’t lived up to their end of the bargain as a parent. If you have narcissistic parents (and that includes having one who isn’t technically a narcissist, but was codependent to the narcissistic parent and never took your side and colluded with the abuse), then you are an orphan. You were mercilessly abandoned. So it’s not a sin to go no contact with a narcissistic parent. It’s an act of self-preservation. The same goes for a narcissistic spouse, sibling, or friend. You owe them nothing, no matter what they tell you.

That being said, I still do try to understand the narcissists in my life. I see them as broken people who, whether by choice or design, have adopted a way of relating to others that poisons their own minds as much as it poisons the life-force of their victims. Yes, I feel badly for them. I don’t like them or what they do, but I feel badly for them. They cannot help themselves.

Some of you won’t understand my attitude. I understand the lack of understanding. Narcissists have made our lives hellish and compromised our ability to become everything we could have been.

Anger, rage and hatred is a perfectly normal and desirable initial reaction when you find out you’ve been had by one or more narcissists, especially if they were your parents, who were supposed to love you unconditionally. But it shouldn’t be permanent. I’ve been criticized for my attitude before, but I think it was taken out of context, because I’ve never suggested, not even once, that anyone needs to put up with a narcissist or keep him or her in your life. But for me, feeling pity for them (NOT forgiving them!)–from a safe distance–helps me to feel like less of a victim myself. You might be surprised how well it works, too.

I don’t choose to be an eternal victim because that sucks. I don’t choose to hold onto my rage and anger (been there, done that!) because, well, it’s toxic to me. Seething anger eats away at my soul and turns me into someone I don’t like at all. I start obsessing on my rage and hatred and that turns me bitter, resentful and depressed. It drives home my victimhood and makes me wallow in self pity (“Oh, poor, poor me, WHY did *I* get stuck with such evil monsters as parents/spouse/friends, etc.”)

By seeing narcissists as broken people who can’t help themselves and will probably never change without some kind of earth-shattering shift in their consciousness (which must come from inside them and only them), their power over me seems diminished. They become paper tigers instead of terrifying beasts who rip me to shreds and eat me alive. And by seeing a narcissist, especially one who has “raised” you, as a toothless paper tiger, by contrast I feel more powerful and less afraid.

I used to have as much rage and hatred toward narcissists as any other victim of narc abuse does. That attitude served me well, too, because it motivated me to make the final break. But I found that after a few months, I couldn’t hold onto that anger anymore because all it did was make me feel bitter and depressed, and it also held me into an identity as an eternal victim, which is an identity I don’t want. I’m tired of always feeling like a victim, but to do that I had to change myself and my attitudes.

For me, releasing my hatred and rage allowed me to stop stewing in negativity and self pity, and once I did that I could begin to work on the things in myself that needed working on. Since I moved on from all that rage, my overall attitude toward life has improved immensely. I’m beginning to feel like a real live person who can overcome just about anything my narcs have done to me, because all you can do is laugh at a paper tiger.

And, if you’re still wanting to get back at your narcs, think about this: Narcissists WANT you to continue to feel victimized. They WANT you to be afraid. They even revel in your hatred because your hatred (which is based in fear) makes them feel powerful. The best revenge is to see them as ridiculous paper puppets, which is really all they are. By seeing them as pathetic paper tigers with no teeth or claws, you are giving them the opposite of what they want and they will HATE you for that!

I think the Serenity Prayer is something that can be as helpful to us as it has been to countless people in 12-step programs:

God grant me the Serenity

To Accept the Things I Cannot Change

The Courage to Change the Things I Can

and the Wisdom to Know the Difference…

***

The Pool Guy: a story about narcissism (part 2 of 2)

Posted on February 6, 2016 by luckyotter

Continued from Part One.

Here are the final installments of the saga of a wealthy, grandiose narcissist obliging his neighbor (who wrote these posts) to be his “pool guy”– a source of narcissistic supply and target of intermittent abuse and love bombing.

The Pool Guy (continued)

He painted the pool guy black [devalued/discarded a pool man he had previously hired]. He went on a crusade to prove how easy it is to do what that “incompetent fool” can’t do. He spent a fortune in money and time. My neighbor paid twice as much to have an employee from the pool store come by and show him how to do it.

He’s completely incapable of hiring a pool guy. When I left him with that choice, he mentally split. I knew I’d seen that look. I was braced for silence, brooding, etc. Instead, he was flip, glib, non-nonchalant. He already had that episode scripted.

His admirers (me, his source of socializing; his realtor who stands to make $20,000) will deal with it. If we don’t, he’ll have another nice chapter for his narrative. Sources of supply let him down, and even the realtor can’t live with $20k. “Taking care of the pool — which is such a simple thing to do, I know, I’ve proven it to myself. He couldn’t work a little harder for $20k. It’s his fault it took longer to sell. Yes! That’s it! It’s his fault. He thought he could just bring people through the house and it would sell it self. Typical loser. He probably voted for Obama! Yes! That’s it.”

I could actually come out on the winning end if I were more in the psychopathy spectrum. I could send him emails saying how I’m surprised that realtor didn’t let my neighbor know the pool turned green in 4 days. Or, imply the realtor is one of those guys who voted for Obama. “What’s he thinking. The pool’s green and he wonders why it’s not selling! He thinks $20k should just come to him without doing anything to earn it!”

It’s been two days. I’ll walk over there in a couple hours. I might toss a couple scoops of magic powder in the pool. But, my position is that I agreed to walk around and be his eyes and ears. Help coordinate anything that needs to be done. I’ll leave the hose on a slow flow (to top the pool off, instead of having to watch it and constantly take action).

I think the realtor is having Open House. I should walk over and broach the topic with him. That’s the most I’ll get involved. Otherwise, I’ll wait till it spins out and let my neighbor know. He’ll probably call the guy at the pool store to come and do it. It will cost him more than paying a monthly fee for regular service. But, it’s just not in his vocabulary to do that.

I’m not worried about it. I won’t “play” it to my advantage. I was being sarcastic about that. But, I do imagine he’ll hold it against the realtor. He’s already bad-mouthing the realtor for not trying hard enough.

When I consider my position in the matter: I could try to keep it up. The risk to me is that it would turn into a project. I would try to make it perfect. I’d feel responsible. (The inverted or compensatory N, self-sacrificing). Then I would get bitter for what I give and how little I receive in return. It would turn into a blow-up and me disliking him.

I can probably do a little to keep it in shape (so it’s not a green 4-day disaster) without my traits taking over. I don’t think I have to “stand my ground” against what is clearly his manipulation. My self-awareness should allow for better than that.

I’m going to walk over there right now.

I just returned. The realtor seemed distant, short, unpleasant. I think I could see quickly what’s going on. My neighbor’s making the realtor earn his $20k, taking it out of his hide. Criticizing everything the realtor does, expecting perfection. He’s blaming the realtor for the house not selling at the inflated price my neighbor first picked. (My neighbor can’t look at it in the context of having bought the house for his son to go to college. It was just an expense. Now it has to be a huge return on investment. His son’s education living in relative comfort and security wasn’t the return.).

I suspect that part of that narrative is that I’m my neighbor’s trusted ears and eyes. My neighbor probably gave the realtor a verbal beating and let him know his absence won’t make a difference. I suspect the realtor sees me as an extension of my neighbor. I’ll say something, leading to more unpleasantly.

I touched upon the topic of the pool. I think I broke through some ice and I subtly let him know we have the same concerns. I think he believed my neighbor “tainted” me and I was on the lookout to give my neighbor ammunition. A home-buyer arrived and the realtor said he would call me soon.

***

This was the last post until the end of October, when the forum member began to have problems with his narcissist neighbor again. The neighbor’s pool was again the ammunition used to torment him.

My narcissistic neighbor put the house on the market and left me to keep an eye on the place. He expected me to take care of the pool which I made clear I wasn’t comfortable with. When he left, he treated it as if would be taken care of between me and the real estate agent, and he would return in September if the house didn’t sell. “Somehow it will all work out” (expecting me to do it even though I said “no.”).

Well, we’re entering November and there have been “complications.”

While here he groused about the people who work at a retail store he owns. (The same way he groused about the property management company who rented the house for a year or two. And, the pool guy who did something not to his standards. Also, the real estate agent who wasn’t working hard enough.). He was going to go home and sell the store. Well, the first thing he did was fire everyone and ran the place himself.

That was the first clue he wasn’t coming back.

Then he was going to rent it, and maybe I could look after minor issues with tenants (pay me for my time). I asked if he would have a pool guy, and he said he would let the tenants care for the pool. (I know how that works. It turns into a mess, leading to maintenance work.). I expressed my concern about that, how usually the cost of a pool guy is rolled into the rent so there’s no surprises.

He could tell I wasn’t eager to do it, so he called some property management companies. But, he didn’t get a good feeling about them (probably jaded about them like he is about pool guys).

Then, he extended the for-sale listing (with the real estate agent he doesn’t like). He expected the pool stuff to continue as it was.

Then, something happened which required the house be taken off the market. (A repair must be made. Nothing serious, but it could stand out as poorly done if not done right.).

So, 3-4 weeks ago I became the sole pool guy (because the real estate agent stops by now).

He has contacted some people to do the repair, only one has come by to see it. But, that repair guy didn’t call the neighbor with the info. I explained to my neighbor the repair guy did mention a price, but I assumed he would call my neighbor since I’m in the middle (nothing was written, etc.).

That was a week ago. I just communicated that I hadn’t heard from anyone else, and asked if he heard from that repair guy. (I also needed to let him know the pool condition is deteriorating.). He said “no. It appears nothing will get done until I’m there.”

I think he realized it’s a little more complicated than the average Craigslist advertiser can be trusted to do. There are 3 ways to do it, and none are perfect. (Especially not to him. The only perfect way to to do it is if he does it — but he fired everyone…. and so on, and so on.).

That’s how he is. He’s probably in the middle of a huge narcissistic injury with his business. The house was a disappointment. And now it’s rolling down to me. (Exactly how I envisioned.).

This makes me realize how glad I am to be self-aware. The feeling was more novel in June/July when he was here. Now I feel more accomplished at it. For example, before awareness I would have been emotionally invested in being “the guy” taking care of things, responsible for additional profit from the sale, etc. As expectations changed I would have taken it personally (injured, taken advantage of). That would trigger him into one of his “I knew it, you’re like the rest, a bum!” I would have taken it personally (not recognizing my own reckless exposure to it).

So, I spared myself that indignity (even though he would like me to feel co-responsible, which I can understand because I would do the same thing.).

Now I guess I need to contact the repair guy and ask him to call the 4-year old (because the 4-year old won’t do it.). But, I also think my neighbor wouldn’t let him do the work because of the potential for it to come out badly. I think blaming the repair guy is merely convenient.

So, I’m probably stuck for another two months.

It irritates me because I made it clear a dozen times I don’t want to have anything to do with the pool. Even on his last day here when he bought me my dinner and then sprung it on me how he expected me to take care of the pool… and then his whole demeanor changed when I said “no,” and I knew I had seen that look before. He fast-forwarded in his narrative to how that’s going to work when he’s disappointed (forgetting how I told him “no.”).

I tie today’s snitty reply *directly* back to that affect/personality change I detected at dinner when I said “no.” He was imagining this moment. (A Pavlovian salivation at the tasty supply which awaits.). I know that look because I do it too. (“You’re not going to do these things for me after I imagined you doing them? Ok, that works too. You can be the good guy, or the bad guy.”).

It’s interesting how I knew this was how it would go. There were times I was concerned I was being too uncooperative (invulnerable). But, I was right. If I had given into my eagerness to be the shining star, I’d be having a serious (self-induced) injury/rage right now.

I was tempted to assert my “no” when he put me in this position. But, there was a real estate agent involved too. I thought I could help out. But, I’m starting to let him know it’s not working out. He knows it’s starting to deteriorate and I don’t know what to do. (He knows someone at a pool store who he thinks he can fall back on to do it. The weather is cooler so it won’t get too bad now.).

It’s strange how he has to do everything himself. I asked how the sale of the store is going, and when he think’s he’ll return. I don’t want to put him in a bind being hundreds of miles from his property. I don’t mind keeping an eye on things. But, the pool part of it is irritating me. He’s going to have to get a pool guy or be prepared for it not being perfect when he gets here.

That’s what makes me nervous is that he has huge expectations on everyone else (but never notices he doesn’t do much better).

I’ve been beating around the bush about how the pool won’t be in good shape when he returns, and how it probably needs one of those weekly people. I’ve also asked when he’s coming back. All I get in reply is how it would be nice if I could do the best I could with it. (He doesn’t respond to how the sale of his business is going, or when he thinks he’s coming back.).

What really irritates me is that he spent over $2k on fake furniture to make it look nice. (It’s a common practice in the US.). But, he won’t spend $30 a week on a pool guy.

I think he imagined me to be “his buddy.” He returned home (to the drama he was planning, firing the employees, selling the business, knowing full well he wasn’t coming back in 6 weeks) and boast about how he’s got “a guy” taking care of his stuff here. It’s power! (“He’s my eyes and ears.”). To the extent I don’t perform, he can talk about how someone he thought was “his guy” disappointed him, left him with a big mess to take care of, etc. (He’s probably having a problem selling the business and saying “and on top of all this, I’ve got a guy taking care of my stuff… but he’s not working out. I must return there and take care of something. If I weren’t Superman…”).

At least it’s a learning experience. I saw it coming. I should have been firmer with the boundaries. I could probably still hire a pool guy and charge my neighbor that price for taking care of the pool. (He keeps saying he’ll pay me, as he ignores how I’m telling him…). Maybe I should do that. (“I spent 2 hours on the pool this week. At $15 per hour… Oh, you think that’s too much?” Then he’ll complain that “the guy taking care of my stuff is gouging me.”).

At least his expectations are set. And, more importantly, so were mine from the beginning. Honestly, all I hear is a plea to just do it because he needs to feel like people will do things for him. That’s *all* I hear. Money, it doesn’t matter. “I just want *you* to do it because I don’t have anyone else acting like they like me.”

I don’t recall how old he is. Almost 70. He lived his life accumulating a lot. He said he had to start “preparing” (downsizing, getting things in order). That’s probably a difficult/harsh reality he’s facing (relative to the capability/power he wielded and impressed himself with. I suspect the sale of the business is not turning out as he hoped. It’s not as valuable as it once was. He’s probably liquidating it at a loss. That’s probably an injury (raging at the parent company, the employees he “carried” and made a living for years, himself for not getting out sooner). Now the house is a tar baby.

The weather is colder now, therefore the pool maintenance isn’t an issue like it would have been in the summer. I just drop a couple tablets in the chlorine dispenser 1-2 times a week. That’s not much more than the letting myself in 2 times a week to check on the house.

I’ve made it clear to him that it’s going downhill, he needs a weekly service person, and without that it will need work when he returns. His expectations are set. I’m sure he’s using that as part of his narrative to people he associates with where he’s at. I don’t care. (I knew how he is when I agreed to watch the place, then got suckered into co-caring for the pool with the real estate agent.).

Read Part One here: https://luckyottershaven.com/2016/02/05/the-pool-guy-a-story-about-narcissism/

The Pool Guy: a story about narcissism (part 1 of 2)

Posted on February 5, 2016 by luckyotter

Some of you who read this blog are probably aware that from August – December, I self-identified as a covert narcissist. I won’t get into the reason why here (that’s been explained elsewhere and I don’t wish to go there again), but I was wrong (thank God!). But during that period of time, I posted on a self-help forum for people with NPD. Most of the posters believed they were covert narcissists (few of them had an official diagnosis). I’m not sure most of them were even narcissists at all, but just thought they were (same as me). If you’ve been “infected” by narcissists all your life, you can develop a bad case of “fleas” and display narcissistic traits, without actually developing the disorder. It can be very confusing and it’s fairly common for people with complex PTSD or Borderline Personality Disorder to believe they have NPD. (According to most experts though, if you believe you have NPD, you do not).

That out of the way, one of the “covert narcissists” on the forum in question, who may or may not have been one (I don’t think he was) told the story of how a bigger, badder narc turned him into a source of continual supply and constantly took advantage of and abused him, using every trick in the narcissist’s playbook. The victimized man, who tells the story, seemed like a codependent type to me. If he really is a covert narcissist, the story makes sense because when covert and grandiose narcissists appear together, the covert one will nearly always be in the codependent, victim role.

Since the tale he tells is so entertaining and hilarious as written, and because he has an enormous amount of insight and knowledge about NPD (impressive if he actually has the disorder!), I’m just going to quote his ongoing posts about his wealthy neighbor who was feeding off him like a bloodsucking leech, turning him into his “pool guy” and making his life a living hell last summer.

Since the story was told in quite a few posts on the forum and is going to be quite long (and the man is long-winded), I’m going to put this up in at least two posts.

The Pool Guy

My neighbor is here preparing his home for sale. He was here almost two years ago and we went to dinner then. He’s narcissistic. Very successful in life. Owned many businesses, bought/sold many properties. Lives on a beach. Very high standards, complains about others. He’s not disordered.

So, this is my first post-awareness experience. I’ve noticed myself catching why it’s comfortable to be with an overt/grandiose narcissist.

1. I notice I get supply from him describing his successes. There’s a definite “trickle down” feeling, like “he’s who I wanted to be, and he recognizes me as a worthy helper. I’m special because he likes me.”

2. We’ve gone to dinner a couple times. With others I would struggle to find things to talk about. It’s work to do it, and I don’t enjoy it. With him, when the awkward silence begins, all I have to do is ask him about one of his restored classic cars and he’ll start talking for 10 minutes.

And then I’m back to #1.

3. He took me to dinner last night. We stopped at a parrot store. (I love parrots. I go to this store occasionally and sit with a bird for an hour. They seem to have the same emotional maturity I do.). I found a friendly macaw and put it on his arm. I took a picture of him with the macaw. He said he would put it on his Facebook, send them to relatives, etc.

Last night I emailed the photos to him and felt kind of manic’y like I the attention he would receive belonged to me.

Summary. It’s very different now. I see what I’m doing as I do it. That halts my mental process which would typically grow to large proportions — and then butt-hurt (narcissistic injury) when reality didn’t keep up with my inner narrative.

[…]Last night I could recognize why I react the way I do (use this synergy for my benefit). I could equate it to the “inner narrative” and choose to consider more realistic thoughts about myself. Which in turn leads me to treat him more like a person than a source of supply. I end up feeling better about myself for dealing with someone realistically.

After spending a fortune and countless hours making his pool a paler shade of green, he informs me today he will leave on Saturday. Furthermore, he instructs, we are going to dinner tonight and Friday night. He’s buying. Anywhere I want.

I thought that was exceptionally nice.

So, we go tonight and, after the waitress places our order, my neighbor begins “asking” if I can keep an eye on his house, nothing big, and he’ll give me a key (which gave me that giddy feeling). All I have to do is walk through every couple days.

Sure! I can do that.

Then I ask, “you’ve got a pool guy, right?” He replies, “No, I thought you could do that. It’s amazingly simple. Of course, I would pay you for your time.” I began looking over my shoulder to see if it was too late to cancel my order. I realized I’d been setup.

Buying me a meal would have worked before I was self-aware. Weeks later I would have raged against myself — while absorbing the cost so I would still be seen as the narcissist’s favorite.

This time I told him I wasn’t comfortable with it. I’m not good with pools. (He knows that’s why I had mine dynamited 20 years ago. The largest ball and chain of my life!). He was disappointed. I was really tempted to give in, thinking I was being needlessly inflexible. But, then I remembered how much blood and treasure he spilled proving he was better than the pool guy — and he expectsme to be better than the pool guy too. So, I stuck to it, repeating I’m not good with pools. I never claimed to be. I’m retarded that way. (There’s a concrete carcass buried in my backyard to prove it.).

He dropped it suddenly and it was no problem. I thought he might brood, letting me know I’m on the “outs.” But, he was fine after that. I felt really good about how I’m able to navigate my old traits. I almost got caught off guard.

Later I realized I could have actually handled it even better. His whole thing is a bitter (and failed) rivalry with the pool guy. I should have cheerfully accepted what he as going to let me do for him. I could then hire a pool guy — charging my neighbor whatever the pool guy charges me. I could have saved him the humiliation!

Today I stepped into something a little by accident. He’s on a quixotic mission to fix a pool problem (in response to the pool guy screwing him). We’re also fixing a block wall and I have a masonry saw, so I cut some blocks for him. I noticed him in his back yard, so I thought I’d take the blocks back their for him.

I saw the pool was getting a greenish tint and just blurted out “oh wow, you’re getting some algae. You didn’t have that a couple days ago when you showed me what was wrong. Is it getting worse?”

Oh no. That was a narcissistic injury to him. I didn’t recognize it immediately. But, I could tell he was strewing about something, throwing more barbs than normal. He finally said something criticizing. I started feeling a narcissistic injury (Omg! He’s borrowing all my stuff! Using my internet! It would be so easy to hold his head underwater right now.). But, only 15 seconds into that feeling I dismissed it, knowing he’s narcissistic. It’s about him, not me. But, a little later I realized I caused it by voicing my thoughts carelessly.

So, it’s been interesting being in what would normally be an inverted relationship, keeping closer tabs on myself. I feel good about it.

poolman3

I had dinner with him last night (Monday night) after not seeing him since early Friday morning helping him fix his fence.

1. He wanted to drive to Mexico for the weekend because the realtor was having “Open House” both days. I gave him a lot of info as if he’d go himself.

I normally would jump on something like that to be the “tour guide.” I would live in his memory, associated with what could only be described as a documentary-quality tour of [whatever]. Why be modest? Epic.

However, more than not being eager to visit the birthplace of diarrhea, I just really needed some space from the narcissism. So, I didn’t volunteer to do anything with him either Sat. or Sun. I gave him the self-directed tour info and played it like he was going. I didn’t ask any questions.

I was reminded of _____’s thread about feeling awkward saying no. I felt bad because I knew he didn’t go. I knew he had to be out of the house for 8 hours both days. I felt like I wasn’t being a good citizen. I assume he suffered narcissistic injury because he didn’t invite me to go with him wherever he went. I would have probably done one day with him.

But, I decided I’m not responsible for him. I’ve helped him as a neighbor, I’ll continue to go to dinner or show him around town. But, not every day. I shouldn’t have to explain that nor be embarrassed. I treated it like I’m doing the normal thing.

2. We went to dinner last night.

OMG. It was like the “inner dialog” was bottled up. It was non-stop and sounded rehearsed like he’s had the conversation with himself for 3.5 days. I literally could not get a word in edgewise. Every time I tried to say something, he’d interrupt like he knew what I was going to say (so I didn’t need to say it) and proceeded to the rehearsed conversation.

It’s really interesting to see this now with my awareness. Compared to how I would normally get drawn in, reacting to “my kind of language,” I feel detached like watching a tv show. It’s totally different. Not so much analyzing him, but knowing my own reflexive behavior and controlling it (except for last Thursday when I thought I was proving my intelligence by pointing out his pool was getting worse. Ooops.).

In my previous update I described how he dropped the subject abruptly, but wasn’t injured. That threw me off. I thought something wasn’t right.

Last night we went to dinner. He asked me if I could watch the water level “since I’m going to be walking through the house every other day or so. Just top it off with my hose (which remains there).” I said “Sure. But, how often will your pool guy come around. He’ll do that too, right?” He had a puzzled look on his face, like we’d talked about this before, and proceeded to say there won’t be a pool guy. He’s only going to be gone two months and he “just added chemicals today, so it should be ok for that long.”

I’m being put in a position to “just do it.” There’s no way it’s going to be “ok” longer than 3-4 days. When he “flipped” two nights ago, he just didn’t care. I knew I knew that look. He already had Plan-B in his mind and that’s what happened.

So, I guess I’ll be informing him in 3-4 days that the chemicals are exhausted. I’ll probably hire a pool guy and charge him like it’s my time. He’ll never know he was affiliated with one of those guys whose entire profession he painted black.

He said he asked the realtor to throw a couple scoops of the magic powder in the pool whenever the realtor shows the house. “So, it should be ok.” I’ll talk to the realtor and see if he has any qualms about this arrangement. Maybe we can conspire together. He probably knows a pool guy. I can pass it along to my neighbor like it’s my time (which he said he’d pay me).

Continued in Part 2: https://luckyottershaven.com/2016/02/06/the-pool-guy-a-story-about-narcissism-part-2-of-2/

Are HSPs really targets for bullies?

Posted on February 4, 2016 by luckyotter

(Edited from the original 3/25/15 post)

People who are highly sensitive are often targets for bullies, but it’s not high sensitivity itself that leads to the bullying. It’s because of the dismally low self esteem that tends to go along with being an HSP, especially if we were raised by narcissists. Sadly, for such victimized children, they often find more of the same at school and this only exacerbates their already low self esteem, leaving them open to further abuse.

Narcissists envy and fear high sensitivity.

Narcissists hate high sensitivity in others for two reasons: 1. They envy it because it’s something they can’t have or may have lost as children and it’s a sign of an authentic person, which is something they aren’t but wish they were; and 2. they fear it, because they know this quality makes it possible for to zero in on the emptiness hiding under the narcissist’s guise.

Their hatred and fear is expressed through love bombing followed by bullying and other forms of abuse meant to weaken the HSP. An HSP’s fragile ego can be destroyed or greatly diminished after years of bullying and abuse.

Sharon: an HSP who carried a can of Narc Repellent.

I was thinking about a woman I used to know named Sharon. She was an empathetic young woman who felt everything so deeply–but mostly joy and love. She’s exquisitely sensitive but is also self confident (she was raised by very loving parents). She is comfortable enough with herself to show her vulnerability openly, allowing herself the liberty to feel all her emotions as well as share the emotions of her friends.

You might think Sharon is a magnet for bullies, but she’s not. She makes friends easily because she has such a loving and positive presence and and people feel like she cares about them, and she likes herself too (without being at all narcissistic). They are right.

Narcissists avoid Sharon like the plague. Why? They would probably love to get their hooks into her if they could, but Sharon’s confidence in herself and easygoing comfort around all kinds of people scares them right off. While still being emotionally vulnerable, Sharon is invulnerable to narcissists because they sense her strength. She’s indestructible and they know it. As a result Sharon is never victimized and tends to attract other loving people as her friends, people who just want to be around her because she’s a lot of fun but can also cry with you if that’s what you need.

If you’re a highly sensitive adult whose self esteem has been destroyed by narcissistic abuse or a sensitive kid who has become insecure and fearful because of bullying, your high sensitivity will be expressed very differently than someone like Sharon.

Sensitive children do get tested by school bullies, and it’s harder to not let that damage your self image when you’re so young, especially if your parents are also bullies and have already done a number on your self esteem. But for an adult, most people will admire emotional openness and vulnerability or at least respect it–as long as they also know you respect and love yourself. People can sense when you’re comfortable in your own skin and narcs will stay far away, because they’re only attracted to codependent types who are unsure of themselves or their place in the world.

Being highly sensitive: a curse or a blessing?

A sensitive person who hates herself will tend to act in ways that attract mean people and bullies to them. They are unsure of themselves, fearful, easily depressed or discouraged, easily hurt, easily frustrated, paranoid, hypervigilant, and insecure. They are afraid of everything, and like ravenous wolves, narcissists can smell their fear. They see this–not the underlying sensitivity–as weakness, and they will horn in on such a person for narcissistic supply or bullying because they’re an easy mark who will be too afraid to call them out on their abuse.

Things are very different for a sensitive person with high self esteem. Such a person will be appreciative, insightful, observant, compassionate, forgiving (but not stupidly forgiving), affectionate, creative, a good listener, empathetic, and with a well developed (but never mean or sarcastic) sense of humor. They are not fearful and they know their place in the world. They have a clear sense of their own boundaries (and those of others) and know how to enforce them if they think they’re being violated. They attract people like themselves as friends and lovers and these relationships tend to be self-reinforcing for both parties.

Narcissists know a strong HSP is powerful and dangerous to them.

Malignant narcissists stay away from self-confident HSPs, because they know they’re much stronger than they are. They know they’re dealing with an authentic person who is happy with themselves and with life, while they are anything but. They know a confident HSP (not the same thing as narcissism) has a laser-like ability to see through their mask without fear and won’t hesitate to call them out when it’s necessary. To a malignant narcissist, a self-confident HSP is a very dangerous and powerful person. That’s why they work so hard to destroy our self confidence and make us hate and doubt ourselves. If we’re crippled by abuse, they can still get what they need from us (supply), without running the risk of having any damage done to them.

As my confidence has grown over these past two years, I’m noticing a transformation of my lifelong high sensitivity from something that made me feel weak and helpless for most of my life into something that makes me feel strong and authentic. I know now that this “curse” and “weakness” I was born with is really a blessing and a strength. I just needed to develop enough confidence to be able to use it effectively.

Learning to love your high sensitivity.

Here’ a few things I have learned.

1. If you have a talent or skill in one of the arts, use it to express what you’re really feeling. Painting, singing, dancing, writing, poetry–can all be ways we can release our deepest emotions in a “safe” way that’s socially acceptable. Don’t hold anything back when creating art, performing or writing. Allow yourself to be vulnerable even if it feels weird and awkward at first.

2. If you don’t have an artistic talent, take up a hobby that speaks to you or get involved in a sport such as running or take a martial arts class, which can build confidence. Activities that center you and build both inner and outer strength, such as yoga, can be helpful too.

3. Always be 100% honest about your emotions. If you’re very shy or fearful, write down your thoughts and feelings in a private journal. Don’t worry about the quality of writing–that’s all just gravy. The main point is to get your feelings down on paper. Seeing your thoughts on paper (or a computer screen) will give you clarity. If you choose to blog publicly instead, you will gain confidence from expressing your most private feelings to the whole world and from the feedback from others you will get. It can be very scary to publicly post something you wouldn’t tell your next door neighbor (as I have now twice this week!), but believe me, it’s worth it. You’ll be amazed at how much doing such a thing will increase your confidence and sense of inner strength. At first you’ll feel like you’re running around naked in public, but you’ll be amazed by the sense of freedom and liberation running around naked can give you! 🙂

4. Every day, try to do one nice thing for someone other than yourself. If you’re really ambitious, you can try volunteer work to help the poor, homeless, children, animals, or anyone more vulnerable or less fortunate than yourself. In doing so, you will feel like you have a purpose, and that you can help others. Knowing you have made someone happier will raise your self esteem.

5. Listen to music whenever you can. It’s second only to writing and blogging in my healing journey.

6. Surround yourself with positive people (not the same thing as positive-thinking nazis, who are often narcissists themselves) but authentic, happy people who accept you for who you are and don’t judge you.

7. Get narcissists away from you. No Contact is best, but is not always possible. If you can’t separate from your narcissist, read as much about their disorder as you can, and read about PTSD and complex PTSD and the devastating effects these character disordered people can have on the rest of us. Read books about highly sensitive people. Elaine Aron’s The Highly Sensitive Person is probably the best known (and an excellent book) but there are other books about HSPs too. Write down your feelings in a journal your narcissist cannot access.

8. Try prayer. It does work.

This is why I can’t hate people with NPD.

Posted on January 27, 2016 by luckyotter

Not too long ago, I was criticized by some other ACON bloggers for being a “narc hugger.” First of all, let me clear that up right now. I don’t hug the narcs, I don’t believe in enabling them in any manner, and I believe and always will believe that No Contact is the only viable way to deal with a narcissist. They are dangerous to be around.

But do I think they’re demons who have no souls? Well, no. But I can understand why many people, especially people who were unfortunate enough to be raised by them, think they are. I think many of the things narcissists do are evil but I’m also all too aware that they are mentally ill people who do the things they do because they can’t help themselves. If narcissism is a choice, for most that choice was made at such an early age it was never a conscious choice.

Some people think we shouldn’t feel sorry for narcissists or care about the poor little hurting inner child that went into hiding so long ago and constructed a false self in its place. I can understand their viewpoint too. That abused and hurting little boy or girl no longer exists and is not likely to ever emerge again, unless the narcissist is fairly low on the spectrum and becomes self aware and willing to change, and NPD by its nature means the lack of insight and empathy, which are prerequisites to make real healing possible.

However, people aren’t born narcissists. Almost all people (unless they are psychopaths, in which case they were born with a defective brain capacity to feel much emotion) with NPD were once normal children with a normal capacity for empathy and love. This was something that was done to them, and the “choice” to become a narcissist was usually made at an early age, from about ages 3 to 6. These kids were so abused or so neglected that they turned to narcissism because it was the defense mechanism that was most efficient in allowing them to cope with their intolerable caregivers. Some grandiose (not usually covert) narcissists may have been spoiled, but spoiling a child is abuse too, because it negates the presence of the child’s true self, an imperfect human being and tells them they are perfect, which is a lie they come to believe and try to live up to.

However their narcissism developed, and whether they are happy being that way or not, people who have it are prisoners to their own disorder. They are not happy people. They are living a lie and in many cases believe the lie they live is the truth. They live in mortal terror of being exposed or losing supply. This doesn’t mean we should enable them or let them get away with the things they do. They need to be exposed. They need to have consequences. Just like the children they are.

I can no longer hate narcissists. My mother is a somatic malignant narcissist but I also know she had a horrific childhood. She’s never talked to me about it but I know of it. It makes perfect sense to me that she would have become a narcissist, given the environment she was raised in. She’s been this way since she was a very young girl and simply knows no better. In her 80’s now, she won’t ever change. She has never been a happy woman, has never known joy, has never really loved anyone. She can’t. And it’s sad.

I am no contact with my mother. For most of my life, I felt like a victim, even after I became an adult. I felt like the things she said and did she was doing to me because she was an evil, soulless witch who hated me. Feeling so hated by my own mother, I felt defective and defenseless. Why would any mother hate her own child? It must have been me. I must have been unloveable. I must have been a horrible child who brought her shame and misery. For years, that was the only explanation that made sense to me, because mothers just don’t hate their own children!

When I first learned about NPD, I immediately recognized it as my mother’s problem, the reason why she couldn’t love me or anyone. I read a lot about it. (This was years before I became so deeply involved in the narcissistic abuse community–that would come later, after I left my ex for good). I read M. Scott Peck’s People of the Lie and thought to myself, well, that explains it. My mother is evil.

But why me? Why was I so unfortunate to be born to an evil parent? I felt sorry for myself. Other people had loving parents, but I got an evil one. It wasn’t fair! Again, I felt like a victim.

Only in the past sixteen months, as I’ve learned about narcissism on a much deeper level (including a short time where I thought I hadn’t escaped the disorder myself), have I realized that narcissists are mentally ill and became the way they are because they were abused themselves. All of us who escaped developing NPD are extremely lucky. We could have become that way too. Maybe due to temperament or some slight difference in our circumstances as children, we somehow managed to escape. Yes, we might have complex PTSD, Borderline Personality or other personality disorders, we might have a bad case of narcissistic “fleas,” we might have severe neuroses like OCD or even Dissociative Identity Disorder, or we may be prone to severe depressions, but we haven’t ever needed to hide our true selves completely behind a mask. We can still sometimes be what God intended for us to be. Narcissists can’t. They are imprisoned forever by their own defense mechanisms.

By coming to this awareness, I’ve been able to develop an understanding of what makes narcissists the way they are, and to me they seem like victims too. And no matter what you may think of that, thinking of them as victims helps me, because when I think of my mother now, I don’t think of her as being some demon that I had the back luck to be born to; instead I think of her as a victim who had no idea how to raise a child and victimized me because she just didn’t know how to be any other way or even know there was another way. It’s a lot easier for me to regard my mother with pity (not enabling!) than with hatred because feeling pity helps me be able to move on with my narcissist-free life and feel less like a born victim. Somehow that makes me feel less afraid. It’s God’s job to fix a narcissist if that’s his will and it’s God’s job to judge them if it isn’t. All I can do is worry about healing myself and pray for people like my mom.